Page 65 of Ghost in the Garden
Like herself, like Solomon, Lambert was a driven man. Determined to rise as high as he could above the grinding poverty he must have been born into, he had followed a cruel, merciless path, and succeeded, however many people suffered and died for it. But he was not unaware of that awfulness. He did not like it. That was what she had glimpsed in him last night.
He still repelled her, but few people wereallbad; he was not unsavable. Maybe she and Solomon should not be trying so hard to ruin him. They should be finding a way to redeem him, for Angela, for all the poor devils who depended on him. After all, who was she to judge anyone for breaking the law? She did it all the time.
Surely Angela was already trying to mitigate the worst of his neglect and exploitation? That was why Cathy Knox had spoken to her, why she spent her days visiting Lambert’s various properties and businesses, trying to ensure there was no repeat of the St. Giles disaster.
No one had employed Silver and Grey to bring Lambert to justice; that was their own self-righteous quest.
She wanted Solomon’s perspective on the matter.
Her heart gave a little skip. Meeting Solomon again as though nothing had happened between them—as though she, the notorious courtesan, had not been devastated by a mere kiss—filled her with dread as well as longing. She was behaving like a very young girl in the throes of early besottedness. But then, she had missed that stage in her life. She had never beenbesotted. Until now. And it had to be with him, the upright man who did not care to pay for his pleasures. He would never love a prostitute, a woman who sold other women. Whatever their personal friendship, he would never see beyond that.
And yet he had kissed her likethat. He desired her. She had always known it, though he had never given in to it, even for a moment, until last night. And now he must know how he moved her, and she could not live with that. She had to pretend it didn’t matter, that it meant nothing to her.
Only, why had he done it?
Had he just given in to loneliness? Why should he not take the comfort of a woman who was happy to oblige? He had disdained the services of her establishment. Because it was Constance he wanted? Was he about to propose some kind of arrangement to her, despite his misgivings over her profession? After all, he understood better now the purposes of her establishment…
Her heart beat thunderously in her breast. Was this not what she wanted? The most she could ever have?
Of course, he did not know she had no professional skills. All her talents lay in enticement, in matching her clients to other women.
As she hung Angela’s cleaned walking dress from yesterday back in the wardrobe, a wave of desolation swept over her. She closed the wardrobe and sank into the armchair, staring at nothing as realization hit her.
She could not bear that kind of relationship, not with him. It was too soulless to make him happy. And it would destroy her. She had to be more than her profession. She was Solomon’s partner, not his whore.
She jumped up again, lashing herself with the word until the pain around her heart began to ease.
She did what she always did, concentrated on the business in hand. Not Lambert, not Solomon, except in so far as he was involved in the capture of their garden ghost. Those butterflies in her stomach were all for that moment, not the moment she next saw Solomon. And that she could live with.
She drew out her watch. Only a few hours to go.
Chapter Fourteen
Lenny Knox hadfound his first peace since the accident in the simplicity of hard work. Mrs. Silver—the elder Mrs. Silver—was a pleasant old bird, brought him lots of tea, and admired his work.
Once he would have valued that more than he did now. He had no one to work for without Cathy and little Kitty. But he wouldn’t think of that. Work had got him through the day. And the day before, the odd business of following Lambert’s wife with the friendly Janey had helped too.
He knew he should stop for the evening and go home, only home was that room full of people, half of them bereaved or injured or dying. At least the anger had come back. For the first couple of weeks after the accident there had only been shock, numbness alternating with the sheer impossibility of going on without his wife and daughter.
And then there had been Solomon Grey asking questions, and a spurt of anger had come back, along with curiosity. The man was actually trying to do something to make Lambert pay…
“Here, love, ain’t you worked enough for the day?” Mrs. Silver said, coming into the shop from the back. “You want to go home and get some dinner.”
He smiled perfunctorily. “Suppose I do. I can come back tomorrow, if you don’t mind me working on the sabbath.”
“I think Ineedyou working on the sabbath, if it don’t offend you.”
She probably thought he needed to get the job finished in order to eat. In fact he didn’t, since Mr. Grey had paid him for following Lambert.
“Tell you what, duck, you go round to the Crown and bring back some hot dinner for us both. I could use the company.”
So could Lenny. It was an excuse not to go back for another hour.
He walked along to the Crown eagerly enough. He even had a quick pint first, which was when the anger surged back.
Vengeance was all he had left. He gazed at the public house door and imagined racing through it and running all the way to Lambert’s house. The bastard wouldn’t be expecting it there, not with Gregg already dead. He began to smile, flexing his fingers.
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